"Probably," he mumbled. "Gonna march me over to your fireplace?" That seemed risky though coming here in the first place had been risky. What had he been thinking? The comedown from the adrenaline and drunkenness that had brought him here was crashing down hard. "I'll go the way I came. Sorry." Sorry I still love you. Sorry I can't seem to accept what you turned life into. "But you really did love me, right?" He felt it, knew it, knew how they had mutually struggled, but with everything, one could not help but want to hear it.